


A Christmas Miracle For A Lost Soldier

by surejohnlock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism (if you squint), Lonely John, M/M, Post-Reichenbach, Sherlock Feels Guilty, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 22:18:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13133370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surejohnlock/pseuds/surejohnlock
Summary: John's first Christmas after Sherlock's fall takes an unexpected turn.





	A Christmas Miracle For A Lost Soldier

"Merry Christmas, you great git," John mumbled, raising his glass of scotch to the empty chair in front of him. "It's about time you return now," he added softly.

He downed his scotch in one go, setting it on the coffee table afterwards. Then, he leaned back in his comfortable chair, relishing in the way the scotch burned its way down.

For that brief moment, he let himself indulge in nostalgia. He thought of the post-case moments that he so loved. They'd giggle for a long while after a particular brilliant case. John would snog him senseless if there'd been a long chase, spiking his adrenaline levels.

Not all post-case moments were as happy. There were times where people had died. Then they'd still have each other. They'd cuddle close, both with their own cup of tea, and they'd let things settle in.

John remembered those moments too.

However, the sound of the doorbell ringing rather insistently pulled John out of his reminiscing. Knowing Mrs Hudson was not in, for she was celebrating with Mrs Turner after John had insisted he was fine on his own, he descended the seventeen steps leading to the door.

"Yeah, I'm coming!" he called as the doorbell kept ringing. "Calm the fuck down, Christ," he mumbled under his breath. He opened the door with a rather angry look.

"Package for John H. Watson," the delivery guy said, his nose red from the cold. In his outstretched hand there was a small package which was the cause of John's frown.

"I didn't order anything," John said, looking up to the man. He shivered as a gush of cold wind rushed into the warmth of 221 Baker Street.

"I know," the delivery guy said with a shrug. "Someone sent it to you."

At that John's eyes widened slightly. "Who did?"

Another shrug. "Dunno. Doesn't say. Listen, will you just take this package? I want to be home before dinner."

John nodded quickly, taking it and signing for it. "Thanks," he mumbled, adding a quiet 'Merry Christmas' as he closed the door.

He rushed up the stairs turning the package over in his hands. He could hear a small object moving as he did so and by the time he reached the stairs he was more curious than he had ever been.

He sat down in his chair before opening the package carefully, as if it were something very precious.

The wrapping revealed a small box with a lid. John examined the box for a while, fearing that his high expectations might come crashing down if he'd take the lid off.

Eventually, he couldn't stand it to wait any longer. He opened the small box to find a memory stick and a little note in it. 

He put the box on the table once he'd taken the note out of it. As he unfolded the paper, his breath hitched at the sight of the oh so familiar handwriting of his lover.

I wish I could give you more, but I'm afraid that's not possible at the moment. I'm sorry.

Merry Christmas,  
Sherlock

I love you, John

John's hand trembled and he read the note so many times he had stopped counting. He was alive, John realised as he pressed the note against his chest. His amazing, gorgeous and all-round perfect boyfriend was alive.

John couldn't stop the giggles that were accompanied by tears. It was a tsunami of relief and no one could stop it.

As John wiped his tears away, he reached for the also very familiar memory stick.

\------

A month before Sherlock's death.

"Sherlock?" John frowned, stumbling through the flat. "Have you seen that memory stick I bought a while ago? My old one's full. Have you seen it?"

His question was answered by a non-committal grunt coming from the man hunched over his microscope.

"Did you even hear me?" John asked with a raised eyebrow and a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. A smile that he didn't want to give into just yet.

Sherlock mumbled something very incoherent under his breath and John sighed, letting his smile bloom on his face.

"Some things will never change, I suppose," he hummed, pressing a kiss onto Sherlock's head as he went to make himself a cuppa.

\------

John's hand still shook with emotions as he put the memory stick into his laptop.

On it was a document titled: 'READ THIS FIRST' and a video. John, always doing as he was told by Sherlock, opened the document.

John,

I wish I were with you right now. As it is, I can't be and I'm not sure when or if I'll return. I know you didn't buy anything for me this year, which is completely reasonable, after all. I'm sure I've been put on Santa's Naughty List for keeping you in the dark for so long.  
Anyway, I made a little video for you. I didn't know what else to give you. And for some selfish, sentimental reason I want you to think of me whenever you look at your present.  
I do hope you're not too angry with me, and I hope this package didn't come too late. I'll try my hardest to come back to you, John. Love is a very viscous motivator.

I miss you, John. I want to come home.

Love,  
Sherlock

John sniffed once, trying to hold back his tears as he opened the video and pressed play.

A soft, hopeful violin piece starting playing, and it didn't take John long before he realised it was one of the pieces Sherlock had composed himself.

He couldn’t help but smile as the black screen faded into a picture of the two of them. The video continued to show many more picture of them at their happiest. As tears filled his eyes, he was the happiest he’d ever been in the last two years.


End file.
